Yule Ball
by Sxvgwii
Summary: With the Yule Ball appraoching in their seventh and final year, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Alfred F Jones finally decides to make amends with his long-time rival, a Slytherin named Arthur Kirkland USUK
1. Childhood Rivalry

**Disclaimer: I took quite a few liberties here (forgive me, die-hards). I do not claim rights or own anything mentioned in this story.**

**Fair warning: the POV is omniscient, so it's mostly 3****rd**** POV but I'll go in and out of people's thoughts (mostly Arthur's)**

There was a chill in the air as the wind swept the random snow flurries across the grounds. Hogwarts looked majestic as always, lights dancing along the snowdrifts and the stars twinkling high above in the sky. There was an audacious feeling in the air as the weeks before the holiday break approached. The Yule Ball was just around the corner (a matter of days really) and the students were frantically searching for someone to go with them to the sacred event.

Since the Battle of Hogwarts many years ago, there had settled an amenity between the Houses. It was much more common to see Gryffindors and Ravenclaws or even Hufflepuffs intermingling in the corridors or even dating. However, the same affection didn't spread so much for the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. The students were more or less civil of course, but there was still a twinge of discord that ran between the two Houses.

The students mingling in the Great Hall, some leaving with their friends or on their own and others wandering to the different tables now that the nightly feast was disappearing from the tables. O.W.L.s were around the corner for the fifth years and many of the seventh year students were feeling the familiar stress as well of life-changing exams. A vast number of sixth and seventh year students had been recruited to tutor the struggling fifth years on their upcoming O.W.L.s, all the while preparing for their own various tests.

Students that were looking for certain occupations – such as Aurors or Ministry work were required to take entry level examinations for their positions to see if they could even qualify to intern in the position that they desired. Others who were pursuing a teaching field were preparing for their entrance exams to the prestigious classes that would allow them to continue their passion. And then there were the students who were relaxed or already had their futures lined up for them.

Many students speculated that the captivating Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team would pursue a career with the American National Quidditch Team (seeing as that was his home country) or even daring to hope that he would play for England. The grace and the ease with which he commanded the team and the field brought many spectators to each of their matches – ranging from Gryffindor's (of course) all the way to the Slytherin students who found themselves captivated by the charming American as well.

Rumors flew around the school that the Captain, a seventh year by the name of Alfred F. Jones, had yet to ask anyone to the Yule Ball and that much speculation had been brought upon the subject. In fact, anytime that the American would approach someone to ask a question, he would be met with furious blushing and innumerous whispering. The blonde male just shrugged it off and went about his day, continuing to smile his blinding smile at anyone who chanced to look his way.

"Hey Mei!"

"Oh my God! Alfred _F._ Jones is coming to talk to you Mei! He's going to ask you to the Yule Ball! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!"

"Hey, do you know where Kiku is? We were going to study for Transfiguration together…"

"Oh…..no. I don't."

"Oh okay! Thanks anyway!"

"….Maybe he just has to work up the courage?"

The conversations usually went like this, sometimes followed with a burst of overflowing tears and always with a dumbfounded expression. After all, virtually every female student practically begged the Fates for a chance at the blue-eyed American. There were times when Alfred would even receive chocolate-covered rum cordials filled with the complicated Love Potion; but as he had never been one for rum, so he would always give them away to his friends.

Which brings us back to the moment where Alfred quietly wandered through the corridors of the sprawling castle, stopping every once in a while to observe a painting and chat with its occupant or even gaze out the window at the frozen landscape. To get into the American's head, he thought that the comments of him being the 'most handsome and eligible bachelor in all of Hogwarts' to be a bit of an overstatement.

He was tall, almost shockingly so as he stood at a good 6'3" with blonde hair as thick and dark as honey. His body was lean and muscular, but not overly so. In fact, Alfred was even convinced that he still had a good amount of fat that hung around his middle (probably from his hobby of overindulging on the food – but it was just so darn good!). His skin looked as if it was permanently tanned by the sun, even in the dead of winter, and cerulean blue eyes that were constantly alight with energy and excitement.

He found the whole infatuation thing a bit flattering, but also slightly ridiculous. Couldn't these girls just get it through the heads that he didn't return their affections?! It was great for his ego, but frustrating as well when he would receive love notes in class and disrupt everything when they would explode in a shower of flowers and fragrance. Alfred would always laugh it off and bask in the attention that it normally brought, but as the Yule Ball was approaching, the notes and tricky love potion-laced sweets were starting to become severe.

But there was always one person that Alfred could count on to bring him back to Earth. Well, a few actually. One being his twin Matthew, a shy Hufflepuff whom Alfred could always speak to no matter what. Another being his dear friend Kiku Honda, a Ravenclaw boy with a tendency of silence whom Alfred had come to know during their first year when he accidentally set Kiku's robes on fire. And the last was one that was the least likely to bring reassurance to the American, a snarky Brit named Arthur who belonged to the Slytherin House.

_It was the first class of the year - Potions. A class held in the darkness of the dungeons below the school. A class that Slytherins were traditionally good at, right? Alfred had been quick to make friends and become the object of affections for the red and gold-clad females in their class. He was dressed the same as the rest of the students, traditionally white button up under a beige sweater, dark slacks and the black robes that covered it all. A red and gold tie was loose around his neck, but still knotted so as to not be out of dress code and a scarf of the same colors draped over the back of his chair. It wasn't the clothes that caught the girl's attention, but the accent. The pure Southern drawl that was assuredly American that brought the young girls to his cauldron, begging him to say random phrases and swooning when he obliged._

_It was here that Alfred met Arthur. A British boy with messy light blonde hair and eyebrows the size of caterpillars. He had the most shockingly green eyes that Alfred had ever seen; like the grass after it has rained, so fresh and alive. The other boy was so pale that he looked like the porcelain dolls that his Mother collected back home, and his cheeks were bright red as he stared hard at Alfred._

"_What are you staring at?" The boy spat, his peridot eyes narrowing with irritation._

"_Uh.. your eyes? Dude, they're like…awesome!" The Brit's eyes widened momentarily and his blush deepened before he flicked his wand and suddenly, Alfred was drenched in water. A small smirk formed on the boy's lips as he waved his wand tauntingly at the American, much to the chagrin of the American and his followers._

_Thus began the love-hate relationship of Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland._

Over the years, the two boys turned into young men. Alfred keeping the same carefree charm and somehow managing to grow from an adorable little boy of eleven to a breathtaking young man of seventeen. There was still an air of childishness that hung around him and though Alfred looked the same, he had changed from the boy that was girl's crushes to a devious fantasy. Not to mention that over the years, Alfred had proved himself to be a bad boy at times and bit of a prankster… but Arthur on the other hand had changed as well. No longer was the shy little boy but he was a young man of eighteen, full of attitude and fire.

His small frame had grown somewhat taller (though he stayed around 5'9" or so) and leaner. He was teased about his figure being feminine what with his delicate features and small waist. If one could look past the venom that the Slytherin boy had dished out, he could truly be seen as breathtaking as well. But with so much discord between him and his least favorite American, many refused to even afford him the second glance to see just how lovely he really was.

Eventually, the two boys had fallen through various compromises and agreements. The Slytherin boy was especially gifted with his magic but lacked the skills to make even the simplest of potions whereas Alfred was virtually the opposite. Around their third year (after being threatened by Headmaster Yao that if the two didn't quit fighting that he would expel them both), they reached a compromise. Alfred had been failing the mandatory Divination class and Arthur had been failing his Potions. The two had agreed to meet and tutor the other in their class, but only upon the grounds that they could do so privately. After all, they had a reputation to maintain.

The two boys were known to have an obvious dislike for the other and made it extremely public. In fact, such an obvious display of distaste towards one another earned Arthur quite a few enemies in the female department at the school. After all, who could hate the ever charming and sweet Alfred F. Jones? It wasn't something that particularly bothered the Slytherin boy. He despised the way that the Gryffindor would gloat in the attention that he received and paraded around with his little troupe of followers.

Arthur would even attend the Quidditch matches to cheer on the teams that opposed the Gryffindor Captain, if only to spite the American and his female fans. The Brit would keep his eyes trained on the American Keeper and many of those who sat near him would keep their eye on him in case that the student would cast any charms on their favorite player. Most assumed that he attended the matches to observe the Keeper and would report any weaknesses that he found to the opposing teams, after all, the teams only got better each time that they faced the Gryffindor team.

In return, Alfred would occasionally send the tainted rum cordials to the tsundere Brit; something that Arthur learned very quickly to throw out as soon as he received them after an incident where he ate some and became overwhelming enamored with a busty Ukrainian Hufflepuff. Yes, their distaste for one another was something that the public was well-aware of. It had even gotten to the point where some of Alfred's dearest (read: obsessive) fans began to send the Slytherin male hate letters and would charm books and various objects to attack him on the stairs. Fortunately, Alfred put a stop to the menace as he proclaimed that the battle was between him and Arthur and not his devoted fans.

Arthur still managed to receive charmed sweets and things from 'potential interests' that would cause him to be violently ill and occasionally his books and papers would fly from his hands and he was forced to chase them down, but that was about the extent of it. This was yet another reason why Arthur would bury himself in the Library; namely the restricted section and study fiercely for his impending exams so that he could attend the necessary classes that would enable him teach in the future.

If asked, the Brit couldn't care about the approaching Yule Ball. He was much too busy with studying to deal with such trifling things. But on the inside, like every student that wandered the ancient castle, he did truly want to go. It just seemed that no one wanted to go with him, other than that frog Francis, but even he was going with some Hufflepuff boy, Mark was his name? No… Miles? Anyway, Arthur had found that he was much more content throwing himself into his studies than dwelling on the fact that no one had bothered to ask him in his final year at Hogwarts. It wasn't like he couldn't ask anyway, but to be honest, he found it useless. No one would ask him and no one would accept. End of story.

He took a deep breath as he flipped another page in his History of Magical Creatures, emerald colored eyes scanning over the detailed drawings of the _Werewulf_, and making sure to take the according notes on the Latin in the text. Such internal conflict was battling within the Brit as he struggled to keep his focus on the page that he was on, finding himself reading over the same line at least five times. Dammit, he should have never let his thoughts stray to the Yule Ball! Now he would never be able to focus on the sodding text…

"Hey."

If you were an observer in the Library at that moment, you would've been able to see Arthur's normally pale face open to a flood of emotions, most predominantly – shock and fear. Any color in his face fell immediately and gave him an eerie death-like appearance. Arthur had made sure that no one was in there with him and he even looked up when he heard people enter. How had he missed… maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him? Perhaps it was one of the school's ghosts?

"Whatcha studying?"

Oh no. There was no mistaking that voice, it was far too familiar. The blonde head was tucked down, his voice hidden but his eyes were wide as he stared blankly at the words before him. "What's it to you?" The Slytherin boy asked, beyond thankful that his voice didn't betray his emotions and wavered, but instead remained calm and steady.

"I didn't see you at dinner…" Pink tinged the Brit's cheeks at the words. So Alfred was looking for him, eh? That can't mean anything good…

"I was busy studying… unlike you, I actually care about what I'm doing after I graduate, not just expecting to do some career that will destroy me by the time I'm thirty."

The voice scoffed behind it. It sounded so unbelievably close that Arthur hardly dared to breathe aloud.

"So you opt to study and not eat? That can't be healthy, Arthur. And you obviously don't know anything about me at all… Quidditch is a hobby, not a career." If Arthur hadn't been so nervous at the moment, he could've sworn that the Gryffindor's voice actually sounded a tad…dejected?

"Here." The word was short and crisp, but immediately following the statement Arthur found himself staring at a small plate with a few scones and pumpkin pasties on it. It looked like heaven to the famished Brit, but he knew all too well the game that the Quidditch Captain was playing at. He chanced it and glanced over to the direction from which the plate had slid into his view and found himself staring at the taller American boy who was half-leaning, half-sitting on the table that he was using.

Alfred was watching him with an amused smirk on his face, the firelight from the lanterns dancing in his eyes. "I promise they're not charmed or anything." He swore, using a hand that was folded across his chest to gesture at the plate of treats. "You gotta eat somethin' Artie or you'll waste away." For a brief moment, the Gryffindor's face turned serious but the moment was fleeting and he was back to his usual grin.

"No thank you." Arthur growled, pushing the plate off his book and using a finger to pick the few crumbs from the pages of the book before him. Alfred sighed heavily and ran a hand through his thick hair and gave the stuffy Brit an exasperated look, "Listen Artie, I'm really try-"

"Don't call me _Artie. _My name is _Arthur._" The green eyed male sneered, keeping his hard gaze on the American that was less than an arm's reach away.

"Fine _Arthur_. I'm trying. At least give me the benefit of the doubt."

"Like hell I will!"

"Arthur-"

"No! Now what the hell did you come here for? To taunt me? To make your little fangirls hate me all the more? Now if you'll _kindly_ leave me alone-"

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?"

Oh.

_Oh._

Arthur froze, his eyes wide and unbelieving, his mouth slightly agape at the statement. No. He couldn't mean that. After all, they hated each other. But the expression on the Quidditch Captain's face was anything but joking. For a moment, the air was still and charged with a tension that even magic couldn't recreate, but it was broken when the so-called 'Golden Boy of Hogwarts' smiled sheepishly.

"Guess you're too busy for such 'tifling activities', huh?" Flourishing the last part with a faux English accent, he laughed a dull hollow laugh that sounded far too forced. With a small forced smile, Alfred pushed his lanky frame away from the table and gestured once again to the plate of pastries. "I promise they're not charmed or poisoned or whatever. Just… eat something, okay? You can't focus if you have nothin' to run off of." And with that, he was gone. Vanishing as quickly as he had appeared to God knows where.

"Oh God." Arthur mumbled quietly, his head sinking into pale hands and the long slender fingers entangling in his hair. Tomorrow would be sheer hell for the blonde, he just knew it.

**Short. Gawd. I'm sorry. This has been in my head. I don't own the picture that goes with it, I just saw it and went with it. My first Pottertalia fic, so yeah. I have most of the ending written up, just gotta go through it. If you own the pic, tell me and I'll give you full credit.**

**I decided to stop it here to create some suspense Mwahahahaha.**

**Probably only gonna be like 2-3 chapters long so sorreh.**


	2. Rekindling

**First off, thank you to Q3Apo, Teenage Mouse, MissSkulduggeryPleasant, InvaderPey, and Kosaji for reviewing. You guys rock.**

**The image for this belongs to Haku. Check out her tumblr at rockets. Tumblr. Com She has the most incredible USUK art.**

**Hope you guys enjoy**

The following day was somehow colder, but then this was December wasn't it? Snow piled everywhere in monstrous mounds, except for the walkways and the Quidditch grounds which had been charmed for the student's pleasure. Of course that didn't mean that there wasn't any snow there, it just meant that it didn't come up to their calves or knees. The students meandered through the corridors, chatting incessantly on the stairs and outside of the classroom doors as they went through their day. Hardly any attention being paid to another blonde haired Slytherin boy as he lurked around the corners, his face drawn in an anxious and weary way.

Strangely enough, not a word was said to the green-eyed Brit as carried on about his day. He had considered skipping classes, but truth be told, it wasn't worth quite the effort. He would have to have a legitimate excuse to skip classes in a school that he lived in. Frankly, he didn't exactly want to go and eat one of those charmed sweets just to make himself puke for twelve hours just so he could avoid confrontation.

One of the pleasurable things about being a seventh year was that the students were able to choose what classes they wished to take. There were obviously a few mandatory classes, but there was only one class where the House rivals were forced to see each other by their own mistaken election. Oddly enough, it was Muggle Studies. Why the pure-blood Slytherin was taking the class seemed suspicious to everyone and he was kept under careful scrutiny from his peers. Alfred on the other hand was rumored to be a half-blood and _of course_ being the people pleaser that he was, he would take the class. However, the Gryffindor refused to discuss his heritage – quite possibly the only thing he never talked about.

In all honesty, Arthur had expected uproar in the school over the conversation that he and Alfred had in the Library, but he was met with nothing. No whispers, no rumors; well, no new ones that is. He was almost sure that a few of Alfred's fans followed him around just so they could hear him say something nasty and use it against him. The sun outside shone blindingly bright against the pure white of the snow that littered the ground. It hadn't snowed anymore that entire morning but it was far too cold for it all to melt. No, Arthur could almost feel the freeze from outside in his bones, causing him to shiver slightly in his seat as his peridot eyes stayed trained on the window to his left.

"Mr. Kirkland!" He snapped to attention and looked towards the professor, a petite woman with kind azure eyes and understanding ways. "What are the top sports in the Muggle world, if you please?"

"Football, Cricket, Field-Hockey, Tennis and Volleyball." The boredom in the young male's voice was apparent, his normally vibrant eyes clouded over as he droned off the answers. A few frowns littered some student's faces as he listed off the correct answers and then proceeded to look back out the window. The Alfred F. Jones Fan Club had honestly hoped that the ghastly boy would get the answers wrong and be horribly embarrassed so they could mock him later.

One of the young girls (a fifth year) glanced towards their idol who was sitting on the Gryffindor's side of the room, his sky blue eyes watching the pale Slytherin boy with a ghost of a smile on his lips. _Oh, he must be plotting something on how to humiliate him_, she thinks, her brilliant mind beginning to scheme as she shares a knowing look between some of the other club members. Oh, they would most certainly get their idol's enemy… and perhaps he would be so thankful he would ask her to the Yule Ball? _A girl can only dream,_ she thinks as she finds herself drifting off into a dreamy haze of herself dancing with the handsome seventh year.

Days passed and the snow only fell harder, but with the miracle of magic the students were able to continue to their outdoor classes and enjoy a relaxing recess under the cover of the walkways over the lake. The Yule Ball was only two days away and the decorations had begun in full swing. A band had been hired to play at the annual dance, robes had been ordered or sent and the students began the annual preparations for the dance. First years were required to learn the traditional dance that opened the ceremony, a complicated waltz of sorts and the older students that needed a refresher course joined in.

The students were buzzing about who was going with who and the last minute panic resumed. Class work decreased slightly as even the professors anticipated the once a year ball. The rumors flew that the Gryffindor Captain was planning on going stag had the girls in a frenzy. To them, it meant that the seventh year was going to be able to dance with everyone and they couldn't have been more excited. Many still secretly wished that he would go with them and them alone; and many young males groaned at the idea of being overshadowed by the American.

Strange occurrences had been happening around Hogwarts as the Yule Ball approached, but it was a school of witchcraft and wizardry after all, so it wasn't that out of the ordinary. To be honest, Arthur felt as if he was been followed, much less watched more so than normal. Especially whenever he chanced to visit the stables on the edge of the Quidditch grounds where the Head Groundskeeper kept all of the magical beasts. To him, stable felt like a sanctuary; it was always warm and homey, filled with sweet-smelling hay and the curious mingling of scents that the various creatures produced.

Personally, Arthur's favorite was the injured unicorn that had been moved into the stable only a month ago. An elusive creature that the Slytherin boy took an immediate fancy to and the mystical creature returned it. Especially when the pale seventh year constantly brought him gifts of apples and sugar cubes. The stables were vast enough to house several students who took it upon themselves to visit the magical creatures without ever having to bump into another. It was quite possibly the most comforting fact to Arthur, especially whenever he felt particularly stressed.

Today happened to be one of the days that the Brit decided to visit his magical friend. It would certainly be a wonderful de-stressor for the boy – especially after the day that he had. Arthur could hardly focus on his classes that day, much less any of his extracurricular studying. Not to mention that one of his few friends, Elizabeta, a lovely Slytherin girl who took far too much interest in everyone's dating habits – especially Arthur's, had plagued him about the Yule Ball. It was as if that was the only thing that anyone could talk about! She had followed him from his History of Magic class and began pestering the petite male about who he was going with. Only when Arthur chided her about her questions, she switched to droning on about going with one of the Slytherin Beaters – Gilbert.

Arthur was familiar with the Beater of course, who wouldn't be familiar with a loud and obnoxious Germanic albino that constantly prattled on about how 'awesome' he was. God, if even Gilbert could get a date with someone as illustrious as Elizabeta – then Arthur had no hope in the world. He had managed to escape the buxom Hungarian when she got distracted by two little first-year boys holding hands and began gushing over how 'adorable' they were. _Bloody fantastic._

Arthur managed to escape the warmth of the castle without too much turmoil and hurried along the pathways, jumping as well as he could over the roots and upturned stones that stuck out of the snow. It was a good five minute walk to the stables and if it hurried, he could possibly make it in three. He pulled the green and silver scarf tighter around his neck, tugging it over the lower portion of his face. His breaths slipped through the fabric in clouded puffs around his face as he dove under one of the many walkways that led to the Quidditch grounds.

As he approached the Quidditch field, a loud 'whoop' reached his ears and he could hear the excited calls of various voices, both male and female coming from the towering stadium-like structure. Deciding to take a side route, the flaxen haired male ducked from underneath the walkways and into the snow that crunched under his feet, instantly soaking his pant legs and shoes. A flash of red and gold flew overhead and Arthur was able to catch sight of the varying members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as they practiced a few drills. From the looks of it, the senior members were training a few new recruits for the upcoming Quidditch season.

A loud laugh resounded through the frozen landscape and Arthur nearly frozen in mid-step. He glanced skyward and saw the tale-tell flash of red and gold before it paused in front of a small boy who looked no older than a first year. The Gryffindor Captain brought his broom level with the boy as they hung in mid-air and watched a few of the veteran Chasers show the hopefuls how to tuck and roll. "I think you've got talent, Toris" The Captain said finally, looking at the frail boy who was bundled up viciously in a layer of scarves and gloves. The small boy looked beyond surprised as he stared up at the Quidditch idol, his green eyes wide with hope.

"You think so?" He asked, voice heavy with a Eastern European accent.

"Sure. You've got the speed and the skill. You just lack the confidence." Here, the boy was flashed one of Alfred's trademark Hollywood grins. "Plus, when it's warmer and you're not so bundled – I'm sure it'll be a lot more comfortable, ya know?"

"Absolutely! Uh…thanks Alfred… for showing me how to do all of this."

"No problem! Confidence comes with practice. It's a lot like basketball in a sense. Once you get the hang of it, it's real easy."

By this point, Arthur had ceased to pay attention and shuffled through the snow and out of earshot from the two Gryffindors. If the Slytherin boy had to perfectly honest with himself – which he absolutely refused to be, he would admit that over the years of rivalry between him and Alfred there was always the enjoyable aspect that he was able to watch the 'Hogwarts Golden Boy' in secret. And as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he genuinely liked what he saw. Alfred F. Jones was _actually that nice._ It was so easy for him and that was a part of what drew others towards the American.

Arthur could feel his cheeks burn with shame and guilt as his mind replayed the moments in the Library last night. It was possible that Alfred was being that nice and that perhaps, he was genuinely concerned for the prickly Brit. If he let himself dwell on those thoughts long enough, Arthur could almost admit that each time some act of violence or maliciousness was directed at the seventh year, Alfred would always stop it. Of course, he came up with the excuses that the rivalry was between the two of them and it was no one else's business or some crap like that, but it was always Arthur creating the discord and the blue-eyed American would generally laugh it off. Or at least reply with some snarky remark, but the way that his sky colored eyes twinkled with benevolence, it couldn't do anything but infuriate Arthur even more.

"Git." The half-soaked boy growled under his breath, his head forced down against the bitter and biting wind as it tore through past the Quidditch grounds and attacked his lithe frame. He was almost to the stables and it was just a matter of a hop, skip and jump, but something made him stop abruptly. It was almost if Arthur had walked into an invisible wall.

His head shot up and his thick eyebrows furrowed as he stared at seemingly nothing before him. No, Arthur Kirkland was no fool. He could tell by the way that the air shimmered slightly in front of him that there was indeed a barrier between him and his destination. Raising a small hand, he slammed his hand into the air before him and felt a twinge of pain shoot through his wrist as it was stopped immediately in mid-air. Definitely a wall.

The emerald colored eyes quickly scanned his surroundings and he made an attempt to turn but he felt his shoulder brush against something. Moving his hand in a wide circle, Arthur found that he was indeed feeling something. An invisible box had formed itself around him.

It was as if his nightmares had come true.

Eyes widening to the size of plates, the Slytherin boy began to frantically beat on the invisible walls, turning this way and that before he yanked his wand from his pocket and muttered various incantations, each to no avail. A girlish laugh floated through the box as there was truly nothing there. Tearing himself around to the direction of the sound, Arthur found himself staring into the beautiful faces of a troupe of young girls, each giggling joyous at the sight of the panicked Brit.

"LET ME OUT!" He screamed at them, banging a fist against the invisible barrier, his green eyes ablaze with a furious fire. One of the girls, a pretty red-head with snot green eyes bent slightly at the hip, holding a hand to her ear, "Sorry, what's that? I can't hear you." She sing-songed, laughing manically at Arthur's furious expression. A dark-skinned girl standing next to her with thick brown hair and glinting brown eyes frantically waved her hands, calling out "He's trapped in a glass case of emooooootion!" The girls practically crumpled with laughter.

For a brief moment, something flickered across the blonde's face that the girls could only recognize as rage before the Slytherin boy began screaming again, hurling profanities that fell on deaf ears. It was becoming slowly colder inside of his invisible box and his body was beginning to react to the dropping temperature. He shoved both hands against the invisible barrier, the tip of his wand glowing in an eerie green light before a booming voice cut through the laughter like a knife cuts through flesh. To the young girls, that was what it felt like as the voice sent shocks through their bodies.

"What the hell is going on here?" Alfred F. Jones, in the flesh stood just a few feet away from where the object of their loathing stood. He didn't look pleased, his normally cheerful countenance drawn into confusion but with one look at the shivering Brit who had his hands slammed against something in mid-air turned his expression into a dark one. The cerulean eyes darkened and his mouth set into a tight line as the girls looked between each other, trying to gather their words.

"We…uh.."

"We heard that _he_ was yelling at you in the Library…"

"So we…uh.. we thought we would teach him a lesson?"

Both blue and green eyes widened significantly. Alfred's face pulled into a dark expression of malevolence as he thrust an arm towards the shivering Slytherin boy. "Let. Him. Go." He growled, eyes narrowed at the young girls who stared dumbfounded, but obliged the object of their affections.

The wall was gone as quickly as it had appeared and Arthur found himself stumbling slightly on the snow before he regained his balance, fingers still wrapped tightly around his own wand as he pointed it at the group of girls. "Get out of here, now." The Gryffindor boy barked at the girls, watching them scamper away in fear and confusion before he turned his attention back to the furious blonde.

"Arthur-"

"Fuck off Jones." Arthur snapped, turning on his heel and setting himself on his original course. Anger seethed through his veins, warming his blood despite the frozen state of his skin and extremities. He could have handled that situation just fine! Albeit, there would have been a serious deduction of House points and possibly some injuries – he could've handled it!

With the stable doors in sight, Arthur forced himself through the snow and yanked open the door with a little more ferocity than necessary only to plunge into the depths of warmth and comfort. A soft whinny greeting him as he stepped past the threshold and basked in the soft light that was cast throughout the stable. The smell of sweet hay and alfalfa was entirely comforting and began to have a soothing effect upon the enraged Brit. Bitter tears of hatred and loathing pricked at the corners of his eyes as he dragged his feet across the hay covered ground towards the source of his comfort. It was probably just the calming charm kept on the stables that was relaxing him as he reached the snow-white unicorn, holding out a pale hand towards the beast that nuzzled it in return.

A sigh escaped his lips as he turned his hand back over to run it along the creature's velvety muzzle, allowing the soft sensation to caress the skin of his hand. "He's always there, just causing more trouble for me, do you know that?" He asked, voice unusually soft as he continued to run his hand along the unicorn's face and down his neck.

"There's a reason for that."

Arthur jumped at the sound of another male's voice, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he whipped around and stared hard at the other boy. The Gryffindor was still dressed in his Quidditch uniform, a simple red sweater and white trousers tucked into leather shin guards, all overlapped by the flowing red and gold robes. He was leaning against the opposite stall door, having pulled his glasses from his face and was using the corner of his robes to wipe them gently before replacing them and giving Arthur an apologetic look.

"And what reason would that be, if you don't mind enlightening me." Arthur snapped, green eyes narrowing at the boy. The mythical beast nudged his hand softly, opening its lips to nibble at his frozen fingertips.

"I like being around you."

"Oh, that's just rich."

"I'm serious!" The American male laughed, pushing himself away from the door and striding over to stand next to Arthur, holding out his hand to the silver unicorn. "I always have. You can't push me away." The tone of voice was soft, almost a murmur that if Arthur hadn't been paying attention, he would've almost missed it.

"What? So you can mock me and have your little fan club attack me everywhere I go? Please."

"Name one time I've mocked you." Alfred challenged, turning his attention to look at the shorter male. His eyes were alive with challenge and looked so earnest, the blue burning into Arthur's skull as he looked up at his childhood rival. "I've teased you, yes. But never once have I mocked you. And I tell them to leave you alone. I try to stop them, I really do."

"And a fine job you do of that."

With a sigh, the taller male ran a hand through his hair and looked over Arthur's head before turning his attention back to the smaller boy. "Look, if I could turn back time and do it all over again, I would. I was young and stupid." Silence washed over the two students as the words took shape in the air and settled down over them like a heavy weight. All Arthur could do was snort which caused his red-clad opponent to giggle. This was all becoming slowly ridiculous, this continuous game of cat and mouse. And it seemed that both were becoming tired of playing the same game year after year. Arthur had denied the quiet implications that he felt from his American counterpart for so long that he tended to ignore them. The gestures of kindness that Alfred would extend or his attempts to cease the hatred that were directed at the Slytherin boy.

"Soo…" His attention had been diverted back to the pallid unicorn that was alternating between nuzzling and nibbling on both of the boy's fingers, occasionally giving a gentle whiny. Reaching a hand into his pocket, Arthur withdrew the apple he had stashed away earlier and held it out, turning his attention to the Gyrffindor who was eyeing him. He raised an eyebrow at Alfred in curiosity at the way that he bounced from foot to foot before settling into a single stance, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

"So the Yule Ball is coming up.."

"Mmhmm."

"Are ya going?"

"No."

"What?! Why not?"

"I have no one to go with."

"Well I can solve that problem!"

"Oh really, please oblige me in how you plan on performing some devious scheme to get me a date? Perhaps I can go with a ghost? Or better yet, a professor!"

"Silly Artie. You can go with me."

Arthur froze, his eyes widening as he stared at the grinning boy beside him incrediously. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am." Alfred replied with a shrug of his shoulders, his eyes half-hooded and his smirk turning flirtatious as he leaned down, putting his mouth next to the pale-as-a-sheet Slytherin; breath ghosting along the shell of his ear. "Arthur Kirkland, I want you to go to the Yule Ball with me."

**What. The. Hell.**

**I'm sorry. It just kind of came out. Didn't mean for it to get angsty and that was seriously a fast turn of events. But I promised only 2-3 chapters long so I had to get some kind of action sequence in there or something! Cheesy ending is cheesy. Next up! The Yule Ball!**


	3. Yule Balls and Discovery

**Sorry for the delay in updating. My birthday was Sunday and we were celebrating that since Thursday night, which took me away from the computer.**

**Thanks to InvaderPey, Q3Apo, MissSkulduggeryPleasant, AnonymousHetaliaFanGirl and the various guests that reviewed! And all of those who favorite and follow my story.**

An involuntary shiver coursed through Arthur's body, like his skin was crawling with a thousand volts of electricity. Here was his childhood enemy proposing to take him to the Yule Ball. The Brit's mind had temporarily shut down as he stared over the Gryffindor Captain's shoulder. Of course, Alfred only drew back to gaze upon the slender face before him, those blues blazing like fire. Had Arthur's mind been working, he might have observed just how close their faces were and he might note the expression of genuine interest in the American's face. But these things just felt too perfect; too timed to be anything but a trick. Yes, someone must have slipped Alfred a potion that made him infatuated with the Slytherin boy – it was the only excuse that his mind could formulate for the situation.

"I…I-uh." Arthur sputtered, green eyes scanning their surroundings wildly. "I…I. I can't!" He gasped before ducking from the American's presence and speeding out of the stables into the harsh landscape outside. His cheeks were already burning and his heart was racing inside of his chest as he forced himself through the drifts. In the time that he had spent inside of the stable, the snow had begun to fall once again; covering his footfalls as he raced back towards the castle. He had to clear his head; he had to think about these things.

Meanwhile, Alfred F. Jones stood dumbfounded. This was a new sensation for him after all. The boy he had come to be drawn to and sought had just rejected him. Oh yes, Alfred F. Jones was used to girls and sometimes boys throwing themselves at him and now that he finally had someone that he actually wanted; he was pushed away. Golden eyebrows were drawn together in confusion as he stared after the wide open stable door, his vision filled with the image of another running away through the snow until he became a black dot on a white page and then nothing more.

A soft whinny echoed from his side before he was reminded of his current predicament. Glancing at the direction of the noise, Alfred stared blankly at the mystical creature, the corners of his mouth pulled into a frown. "What to do?" He asked, reaching out to brush the mane on the beasts forehead, "what to do?"

The remaining days passed like a blur and suddenly, the student body found themselves getting ready for the opening of the Yule Ball. Evening and the later afternoon classes had been postponed so that the students had time to make last minute adjustments and to help with the decorations. There were hardly any students in the corridors as they stayed mostly locked in their dorms or in the common room of their House. Each House held a different type of chaos as the excitement of the Ball and the forthcoming holiday season fell into their laps.

Gryffindor was a loud mess with students chatting eagerly about their holiday plans, who they were taking to the Ball and _calmly_ freaking out over the holiday homework. Ravenclaw was a bit quieter as many of the students had already finished their holiday homework and were leisurely getting ready; conversation drifting between academics and future plans as well as the bustle over the dance. Hufflepuff was quiet as always – many of the students were in the Great Hall helping with the final touches of decorations or waiting anxiously for the appropriate time to travel down to their destination. Lastly, Slytherin was as rambunctious as the Gryffindor House. Noise, laughter and scheming weaved through the students.

A few Slytherin Quidditch members, namely the self-proclaimed "Bad Touch Trio" - Gilbert, Antonio and Francis were devising a way to magically spike the refreshments that were to be served at the Ball without getting caught by the professors. Francis happened to be skilled in the art of Potions (unfortunately) and had created a potion that hid the flavors of the alcohol without limiting its effects. It had proved to be _very_ effective when they tried it on a certain green-eyed Brit the previous night by slipping it into his nightly tea. That had certainly been a good time.

Meanwhile, Arthur lounged in one of the overly stuffed chairs situated near the fireplace, his nose buried deep into the scent of aged paper as he poured over the text. Not surprisingly, he wasn't dressed for the ball but remained shrouded in his normal robes; feet tucked beneath him as he lazily flipped a page in the text. The conversations around him were dull and boring to the Slytherin boy and he began to turn yet another page when a faint rapping caught his attention.

Emerald colored eyes scanned the room slowly to figure out the cause of the incessant tapping so he could tell them to kindly shut up. He could spot no source of the noise until his eyes landed on one of the windows nearby where a copper-colored owl perched on the window sill, tapping its beak sharply against the glass. Who on Earth would send an owl at this time of night? Arthur wondered as he marked his place in the book and rose from his haven to open the window. The fowl took no time in hopping into the warm room and fluttered over to perch himself on the chair that Arthur had previously occupied, cocking its head to the side to eye the boy. It trilled softly around the note that it held in its beak, flapping its wings as if it was impatient.

Arthur's large eyebrows furrowed as he reached over to take the note from the bird's mouth to which it 'whoo'ed at him before diving back out of the window into the cold night. He shut the window immediately to block out the cold that had managed to seep in before settling himself back in the armchair and stared blankly at the little note in his hands. His name was written a standard print, a bit sloppily written if he might add. But staring at the note would answer any questions, so he proceeded to tear into the note only to find himself faced with a line of words, written in the same hand that wrote his name on the front.

_In case you change your mind, I'll be waiting at the Library._

_AFJ_.

Arthur stared incredulously at the note, his mind wrapping around its contents before he hastily crumpled the parchment and tossed it into the fire nearby. Sinking into the chair, a pale hand ran up his cheek and into his mussed hair. Arthur had recognized the handwriting, but he had never believed it to be true until he opened the note. After all, Arthur had spent all of third through sixth year studying with the American, he had learned his handwriting (more like studied it).

Glancing towards a clock on the fireplace's mantle showed the time to be 6:50, which only gave him ten minutes to get ready and be down at the Ball which commenced at seven p.m. sharp. It was no wonder that no other students had taken particular notice of the owl as the common room had mostly cleared out save for the few students that were rushing out. Internal battle waged within the Brit before he finally resigned himself to a sigh and rough yank of his hair, pushing himself out of the comfort of the chair and walking slowly to his room. If Alfred was so determined to go with him, he could stand to wait a little bit longer.

The corridors were lonely and silent; even the castle's ghosts were attending the Ball. Yet, here stood Alfred F. Jones, Quidditch Captain extraordinaire, alone outside of the school's library. His head hung down slightly, causing the honey blonde hair to obscure his face as he toyed with some trinket that Kiku had given him. His back leaned against the wall next to the Library door, his legs crossed at the ankles and the long black dress robes hanging lazily from his shoulders. His outfit of choice was somewhat like his normal uniform with black slacks, white long sleeved button-down and red tie. He had added a pair of red suspenders with a thin black stripe on the edges that would've made anyone else look old, but he somehow managed to pull off the look.

His glasses clung to the tip of his nose as he hummed along to a tune in his eyes, turning the object in his hands different ways to try and solve it. His ears picked up on footsteps but when he jerked his head upward he was only met with the glimpse of a couple walking down a different hall towards the Great Hall. Chewing on his bottom lip, the Gryffindor boy watched the couple drift out of sight before he looked back down to the puzzling object in his hands with a heavy sigh. Alfred had resigned himself to wait in this spot all night if he had to. It was already five after seven and he could hear Headmaster Yao greeting the students and explaining the history behind the Ball and the importance of the occasion.

More footsteps came down the corridor, but this time Alfred chose to ignore them as he moved one of the rings around the metal bars, trying to figure out how to get it past the barrier and to the other side. The footfalls sounded much louder than they would have if they were walking away and he chanced to look upon, his heart soaring on hope that it could be Arthur and not just some fangirl.

Sure enough, there stood the Slytherin boy – his pale cheeks a rosy pink as he stopped some distance from the Quidditch Captain, staring hard at the American male as if waiting for something to happen.

"You're a git, do you know that?"

Alfred chuckled softly as he pocketed the trinket and pushed himself away from the wall, giving Arthur a bright grin. "Yeah, yeah. But I'm glad you came. You look…incredible." And the other boy certainly did. He wore the same black dress robes that flowed around his slender figure, tan slacks and a long sleeved black button-up and a green tie. It was a simple ensemble, but to Alfred it just made the other boy seem otherworldly with the way that his clothing complimented his figure and the green and black made his eyes seem so bright.

"Er.. Thank you, I suppose? So, what is this game that you're playing at? I'm here and you might as well tell me. I've already embarrassed myself enough by even coming down here, now if you will kindly tell me what is it that you have planned - I would like to save myself from more humiliation before the holidays."

Alfred could do nothing more than laugh as he strode towards the Slytherin male, blue eyes alive with mischief and glee until he came only a foot from the other, tilting his head downwards to look upon his former enemy. "I have no plans Arthur. I just wanted _you_ to go to the Ball with me. No one else."

"Oh really?"

"Really. Listen Artie,"

"Arthur."

"_Artie._ I like you. I have for a long time. Since third year probably. Just… just let me prove that to you, kay?" Arthur couldn't mistake the earnestness in the American's eyes this time as the other took another step and closed the gap between them slightly. "I know that we've been through a ton of shit with each other and I know that I can't just magically erase that….well, I can… but I don't wanna erase your memory… But you can at least let me try to make up for it?"

Since when was Alfred F. Jones serious about anything other than Quidditch? However, Arthur found himself rooted to the spot as if vines had encased his feet and immobilized him. But there was something about the way that Alfred said these things that made Arthur want to believe it. God, he felt so sappy and cliché but in way, it made sense.

"You're still a wanker." Snark, always snark with Arthur. But Alfred couldn't do more than flash his infamous Hollywood grin, because if he knew anything about the other seventh year – that was a yes. Grabbing the other's small hand, Alfred tugged him down the corridors and towards the sound of music as it began for the opening dance of the night.

The Great Hall was glowing with perfection. The dim lights from the enchanted candles that floated above the students heads illuminated the snow that fell from the enchanted roof. Everything was decorated with silver, white and blue. Springs of evergreens created the centerpieces for the tables that sat off to the side of the dance floor while holly and evergreen garlands hung in great bounty around the room. Despite the falling snow that disappeared around the candles, the room was comfortably warm. It was the perfect atmosphere for a night of dancing and holiday well-wishing. It was the kind of atmosphere that one could imagine if they were curled up in the most comfortable chair next to a fire on a snowy evening, wrapped in a thick blanket with a good novel and a cup of tea. Despite the lack of dates each year, it was the atmosphere of the Yule Ball that Arthur enjoyed most out of any of the other school events.

Alfred stopped before the entrance to the Great Hall, making sure to give his companion a warm and reassuring smile before stepping into the room, letting their senses be enveloped by the smell of cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla and the sound of a slow waltz, hands still entwined. The moment the two boys stepped into the Hall, an odd silence swept the room as various colors of eyes fell upon the pair. It was certainly the last thing that anyone expected to see the Gyrffindor Captain and the Slytherin boy at the Yule Ball, much less together.

A mix of emotions ran through the various students who actually cared, relief from many of the young boys who wouldn't have to be overshadowed by the American, joy from the students who have been dying to see two such handsome young men together, and rage (and regret) from the Alfred F. Jones fanclub members. Whispers flew through the room as many pairs of eyes watched the two blondes like hawks – many of whom were hoping that this was some sort of trick being played by the American. But when Alfred pulled the shorter Brit into a slow waltz, their bodies pressed close and those saintly blue eyes only on the pale face of his dance partner, many of the young females lost hope, especially those who had pulled that nasty trick on the Slytherin only days before and had felt the Gryffindor's wrath at the turn of events.

The two rivaling students (or formally-rivaling as most guessed) moved together fluidly in their dance as they swept across the floor with grace and elegance which Alfred had earned from Quidditch and Arthur earned from being a 'gentleman'. The band moved into a few more slow dances and even a quicker swing-styled dance which Alfred, being the American that he was, loved more than anything else. However, this precious time came to an end after an hour and the new band took the stage and began to rock the castle with some new-age music that covered everything from the Muggle-band, Fall Out Boy to Swarglesnatch (a popular band in the Wizarding World that used magic to enhance their sound and break new boundaries).

By the end of the night, the students were covered in a fine sheen of sweat and were purely exhausted, though happy. Many had escaped to the darker corners of the castle to do god-knows-what and thus sent the Professors and ghosts to scour the school grounds to break up any indecent behavior. The band finished their last set and with a magnificent flourish, ended the Yule Ball for the year with much cheering from the students.

Quite a few students were drunk by this time and stammered about going to bed or being able to stay up forever before passing out, much to the joy of the Bad Touch Trio and many Slytherin students alike. Arthur managed to stay away from the tainted refreshments and didn't have to worry about Alfred as he stuck to soda only for the entirety of the night. Even in that, the two males stuck to each other's side throughout the Ball. For Arthur, it was mostly because he was afraid of what might happen if the fangirls managed to catch him alone. It wasn't that he was afraid of some little girls! It was that he was afraid of enraged little girls, especially when he stood between them and their idol.

Students flooded into the corridors as the band began to disassemble their instruments and move them into their cases, many headed back towards their dormitories and others hanging in the halls to chat over the success of the night and the surprises that the Yule Ball had afforded them. In this way, Arthur found himself slowly traveling down the corridors next to the brawny Gryffindor, conversation aimlessly drifting over their past and allowing Alfred to explain his side of things (which proved to be extremely enlightening and at times, humorous). They were so deep in their conversation in which Alfred had even managed to coax a few laughs out of the stuffy Brit, that they hardly noticed the horde of girls awaiting them at the end of the hall.

Arthur broke his attention away from the young man at his side for only a brief moment when he caught the gaze of the girls, his eyes widening slightly as he stopped dead in his tracks. The motion had jarred Alfred enough to stop as well, giving the smaller blonde a curious look before following his gaze towards the group of angry women.

"Alright Alfred," one of the girls sneered – the same girl from before with the flaming red head, "I think your little game has gone on long enough now… " The other girls around her looked equally pissed as her red lips curved into a sickeningly sweet smile, "why don't you just dump him now and come with us? Why drag it out any longer?" She cooed, shooting a look that could kill at Arthur. The American looked throughouly confused as he watched the wordless conversation between the Slytherin boy and the Gryffindor girl, before he wrapped a protective arm around Arthur's waist.

"What the hell are you talking about Avalon?"

"Evonne. And I'm talking about your ploy to take _him_ to the Ball and then dump him…right?"

"You've can't be serious." Alfred scoffed and looked towards the green eyed Brit who in turn was glaring at him with a certain of maliciousness. "You can't believe her!" He cried, tightening his arm around the smaller male's waist and pulled him flush against his body, forcing Arthur to look him in the eyes or at least as well as he could due to height differences. The hard look on the Slytherin male's face faltered momentarily, but it was all that Alfred needed before he yanked the other back the way that they came and after rounding a few corners, and a lot of bitching from Arthur, they found themselves back at the Hogwarts Library.

They were alone in the corridor as Alfred whipped out his wand and immediately unlocked the Library's doors and pulled the other inside of the dark room. The smell of ancient texts and old leather bindings invaded Arthur's senses in the darkness as his hands groped around him, trying to find some sign of where he was. His hand brushed something hard and solid on his immediate right and running his hand over it, he discovered it to be one of the bookshelves. Pressing his hand into that, he stretched his other hand out only to feel it come in contact with the cotton material of Alfred's shirt which houses a firm chest.

A set of fingers quickly wrapped around his wrist and pushed Arthur backwards into the bookcase, the feeling of hot breath on his face making his mind grow blank as his eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. His own heart was racing within his chest and he could feel Alfred's own heart pounding through the thin material of his shirt. Their breaths were coming fast as their bodies tried to catch up to the amount of running that they had just completely and the sheer adrenaline that was coursing through their bodies.

"Do you believe her?" Alfred asked, his voice husky with his breathing as his pants steadily became soft breaths. From the level of his voice and the feeling of hot breath, Arthur had judged that he was only a matter of inches from the Quidditch Captain's face. "Do you?" He repeated, a sense of urgency in his voice. His eyes searched a face in the darkness that he couldn't see, but knew was there.

Did he? The conversation that he and Alfred had during the short trip from the Great Hall to where they encountered the young girls had included quite a bit of information. And in truth, it all made sense whenever Alfred would explain his side. And besides all of that, why would Alfred risk his reputation to take him to the Ball only to dump him later? That would destroy his reputation even more than taking him out of honesty. Plus, this was the same girl that trapped him in an invisible box out in the snow only two days before.

"N-No." He managed, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to see the other's face in the darkness. Maybe if he could just see Alfred's face, he could know. The Gryffindor had a terrible poker face and had never been able to hide his emotions well, but the fact that he couldn't see it made the situation all the more strange. Before his mind could formulate anymore questions, an overwhelming softness brushed against his own lips. It was warm and slightly moist, soft like velvet and it felt like only something that magic could create.

And then it happened again, pressing more firmly and then a gentle movement against his own lips. A hand brushing awkwardly against his cheek and cupping his jaw as the sensation grew and the pressure increased. _You're being kissed_. His brain finally acknowledged and his eyes went as large as platters. He was being kissed.

By Alfred F. Jones.

His childhood enemy and up until recently, the bane of his existence who's mere presence caused his life to be a miserable, living hell. He was being kissed and it felt like the most beautiful magic that swallowed him from head to toe, encasing him in a feeling of warmth and assurance that echoed the arm that wrapped around his waist. His own hands finding purchase on the taller American's cheeks, cupping his face and returning the kiss with unbridled passion.

A warm bubbling feeling gathered in the pit of his stomach as the kiss turned passionate and then eased into a lazy and slow motion, savoring the moment as their lips collided against each other's. It stayed like that, only breaking briefly for a breath before they crashed together again, Arthur forgetting the gnawing feeling of the bookcase digging into his back as he traced the Gryffindor's bottom lip with his tongue to which the other happily obliged and granted him access with a more open-mouthed kiss. As he explored the cavern of the American's mouth, he discovered the combination of peppermints, sweets, and mouthwash and succeeded in eliciting a soft moan from the other male.

They finally broke apart moments later and Arthur found himself temporarily blinded by the flash of a sudden light, illuminated at the tip of Alfred's wand as he grinned sheepishly at the pale Slytherin boy. He looked positively beautiful with flushed cheeks and red, kiss-swollen lips; his hair slightly disheveled from the work of Arthur's hands.

Yes. This could work out nicely.

**DOOOOOONE.**

**I'm thinking about adding in Epilogue. Do you guys want one or no? Any unanswered questions that you have? Sorry the ending was so awkward. This was actually really fun to write. Excuse the liberties that I've taken. The Wizarding band was completely made up.**

**Reviews are nice.**


	4. Epilogue

**So I got a pretty resounding yes for an Epilogue. Hopefully this answers some questions. And this probably isn't what a lot of you are thinking. **

**Thank you to InvaderPey, beastie, animebaka14, Q3Apo, Dark-nesey, and Igirisu1996 for reviewing!**

**Warnings: Fluff out the wazzoo; suggestive material, looooads of dialogue**

**I do not own anything mentioned in this.**

The school semester was coming to a close and many of the students were spending their remaining days in Hogsmeade as an attempt to chat and connect with their peers without their professor's looming presence. A small group of students sat at one of the outdoor tables at Honeyduke's listening intently as one of the boys at the table read over an article in the Quibbler.

_Susan Cho: Hello loyal fans! My name is Susan Cho and today I am interviewing the world-renowned Quidditch player, Alfred F. Jones! For those that don't know, Mr. Jones plays for the Arsenal Quidditch Team here in England, who are currently number one in the English League. However, at the Quidditch World Cup Qualifiers, Mr. Jones will be playing for the American National Quidditch Team._

_So, Mr. Jones. Why will you be playing for the Americans?_

_**Alfred F. Jones: Please Ms. Cho, call me Alfred. And to answer your question, I'm American through-and-through. Born and raised, so when they called and asked me to play for them – I couldn't refuse.**_

_Cho: What about the English National Team? Or Arsenal?_

_**Jones: I live in England, but I think it's against the rules for me to play for a national team when I'm not even that nationality. (laughter) As for my teammates, they completely understand. A lot of them come from different countries too and they'll be playing for their home team when the time comes.**_

_Cho: How long have you lived in England?_

_**Jones: Most of my life. I got accepted to Hogwarts when I was eleven and stayed until I finished. Just never left I guess.**_

_Cho: Any particular reason for that?_

_**Jones: Although I'm loyal to America, I guess you can say my heart is in England.**_

_Cho: Oh, a special someone?_

_**Jones: (laughter) You could certainly say that.**_

_Cho: If you could have done other than play Quiddtich, what would it have been?_

_**Jones: Initially, I didn't want to play Quidditch as a career. It was more of a hobby. But around the time of my graduation at Hogwarts, I had been scouted by a few of the teams – even a few American teams. I wanted to teach or at least work with kids.**_

_Cho: What made you choose Arsenal?_

_**Jones: Uh.. well, you can say that my special person lives here. I wanted to stay near them and although we don't see much of each other during the Quidditch season, we see a lot more of each other than we would if I lived in America, ya know?**_

_Cho: I completely understand that. So Alfred, you are quite the icon in the Quidditch world. A bit of a golden boy some say __**(laughter)**__. Do you have any advice for the people and children who look up to you?_

_**Jones: Follow your heart and don't let other people's ideas and expectations mold you. Be who you are and do what you love. And be kind. Life is a rollercoaster of up's and down's and you never know which direction it will take, but you're just along for the ride so it's always best to make the most of it. And when you fall in love – because you will one day, don't let anyone tell you any different. No one has any say in the matters of your heart except for you and the other person.**_

_Cho: Profound. Thank you so much Alfred! We've appreciated the time that you've taken from your busy schedule to talk to us! Stay vigilant for our next addition where we interview Headmaster Yao Wang of Hogwarts and Gilbert Beilschmidt of the Bayern Munich Quidditch Team!_

"Oh my gosh! Who do you think his special person is? I bet she's gorgeous! I mean, she has to be right? To catch an Adonis like him?!" One of the females at the table squealed, clutching onto the edge of the table before her and rocking slightly in her chair. The excitement of the article was just tickling away at her as her mind fawned over the supposed beauty of Alfred F. Jones' special someone.

"To break your thoughts Emilie, I believe that his 'special someone' might be a guy." The boy that read the article commented, looking at the daydreaming girl over the rim of his glasses.

"What?! What makes you think that?!" She exclaimed, staring at the boy with her mouth gaping open.

"I think he's right Em," a girl next to her with raven black hair chimed in, "I mean, think about it. If it was a girl, he would've had no problem talking about a 'her' and a 'she'. But he just kept saying 'we' and 'them'." Emilie looks exasperated and flung her head backwards as far as it would go, groaning the entire way.

"Whatever." She groaned, her head popping back up to glare at her companions. "Either way, I bet they're super-hot." Voices conversing caught the small groups attention as two adults exited Honeyduke's, talking and laughing softly about something. One of the adults was a lovely woman with dark chestnut hair that was tied into two low pigtails. Large brown eyes watched the male that she was talking to with interest and whenever he made a particularly snide comment, she would burst into giggles. She wore a loose and flowing blue dress that dragged along the ground, giving her a graceful demeanor as she walked.

The man talking to her was of the same height with choppy wheat-colored hair. He had enormous dark eyebrows, but they somehow suited his looks and character and somehow made the unnaturally green eyes that he possessed, brighter. He was dressed simply in dark grey slacks and a white button down that had the top few buttons undone. Both of the adults laughed as they paused on the sidewalk, the woman peering over her companions shoulder and producing a large grin, but maintaining the conversation all the while.

"Do you think they're dating?" Asked the girl with the raven-colored hair, amethyst eyes watching the couple conversing.

"Who?"

"Professor Kirkland and Madame Michelle."

"Nah, I don't think Madame Michelle is his type."

"What makes you say that?"

"Haven't you seen his ring?"

"What?"

"Yeah, he wears a ring on his left hand. Wedding finger too. It's a simple band, but it changes colors like a mood ring."

"What's a mood ring?"

"It's an old thing in the Muggle World. You wear this ring and it's supposed to react to your body temperatures and change colors according to your moods of whatever. But I don't think that his goes to his mood."

"Why not?"

"He was really, really pissed the other day. I don't know why, but he just was. And the ring was a bright blue, like a violet."

"And what's that mean?"

"It's supposed to mean really happy or excited."

"That's odd.." One of the other boys trailed off, watching the two adults react. He had a perfect view of a figure that was approaching from behind their professor. It was a tall figure, muscular judging from his size and walking quickly. Devin swore for a moment that the lights were playing tricks on his eyes as he watched the man increase his pace to a solid trot as he neared the two teachers on the sidewalk. The man had honey-colored hair and the brightest pair of blue eyes that he had ever seen, hidden behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He wore navy blue pants and dark red sweater that made him stick out in the crowd of normally dressed people. If Devin didn't know any better, he would almost swear that was an American Quidditch uniform.

And then it happened. The man broke into a full out run and the young man watched as the collision happened. Madame Michelle quickly stepped to the side as the oddly dressed man crashed into the back of his professor, arms wrapping tightly around the slender Brit's waist as he hoisted him high in the air with a cheer. Professor Kirkland squawked and clawed at the air before he was set down, spinning around to face his attacker, the range of emotions that spread across the professor's face could've won an award. Anger, shock, confusion, joy, and at last, love.

"Alfred!" He cried and flung himself at the man, completely ignoring the shocked looks that were being directed at the two men embracing in the street. "You wanker! You told me you wouldn't be back until tomorrow!" He laughed as he buried his face into the bronze-skinned man's neck. The other just laughed it off and held onto the pale professor all the more tighter.

"Surprise!" He grinned, flashing his trademark grin as his large hands kneading the other's back. "We won our final match so we didn't have to go to a sudden death round so I got to come home early!" The shorter blonde mumbled something inaudible in the American's neck and gripped onto the other's body tighter, allowing the Quidditch player's musky scent of sweat and fresh cut grass envelop him.

"I missed you too Artie."

Meanwhile, the table of students as well as a few other onlookers couldn't believe their eyes. Professor Kirkland. Their stubbornly strict Charms professor was close friends with one of the most famous Quidditch players in England! They began to whisper hurriedly about the fact, wondering how the two could even be friends when they were surprised as their Professor pulled out of the hug to say something and the taller man silenced him with a fierce kiss. Instantly, Arthur relaxed into the kiss and returned it with an equal passion – all the while standing in the middle of Hogsmeade.

"Close friends my arse. They're dating." One of the boys said in disbelief, his mouth agape at the scene before them before the unlikely couple realized just how public their meeting place was. A bright blush spread over the former Slytherin's cheeks and up to the tips of his ears as he wrapped his hand into the Keeper's and dragged him inside of Honeyduke's. The boy glanced around the table to his friends to gauge each of their reactions. The raven-haired girl was clutching her nose and a thin stream of blood was seeping through the cracks in her fingers. The other boy at their table looked oddly intrigued and yet somewhat disgusted with the situation and Emilie looked depressed.

Back tracking somewhat, Alfred F Jones and Arthur Kirkland graduated from their final year at Hogwarts as a couple, much to the chagrin of the student population. Arthur took his exams to enter into one of the higher learning academy's and passed with flying colors. Alongside him throughout the remainder of his school years were Kiku and Elizabeta where they met Michelle from Fleur's who had a natural talent for healing. Alfred had been scouted by many separate Quidditch teams in his final year and was offered positions playing for England, Germany and America. As stated in his interview, he chose England to be closer to Arthur although he plays for America during the World Cup.

Matthew, Alfred's twin brother, remained with Francis over the years and they moved back to France together where they both work for the French division of the Ministry of Magic. Gilbert and Elizabeta eventually broke up as they found it too difficult to maintain the teacher/Quidditch player schedule that Alfred and Arthur maintained. Elizabeta became engaged to a Muggle named Roderich who was a composer for the London Symphony Orchestra.

The young girls of the Alfred F. Jones fan club went on to do many diverse things – some ending up in Azkaban and some working for the Ministry. One of the girls even ended up playing for Manchester City's Quidditch Team. Toris became Gryffindor Keeper the following year after Alfred's graduation and attributed it to the former student's training, though it was really sheer talent.

As it is, Arthur travels the world with Alfred whenever he is on holiday and attends each of the Quidditch matches that his lover plays in and cheers him on fanatically. Alfred always seems to do a better job whenever Arthur is at the games, but he will never tell him that. Whenever they both have breaks from their hectic lives, Alfred and Arthur live in a house together in Surrey where the wizarding community has grown vastly since the days of the Great War.

They still reminisce about the years they spent in Hogwarts and sometimes Alfred will talk about things that completely bewilder the Brit as to why he would do certain things. Their first kiss, shared in the darkness of the Library will always be their favorite and sometimes their neighbors will see them dancing in the living room through their curtains.

End.

**Probably wasn't the best ending, but I hope you guys enjoyed it!**

**If you can't tell. I'm an Arsenal fan, so of course I put Alfred on the Quidditch equivalent. Any questions? I'll gladly answer them!  
Reviews are great and make me happy. Let me know what you think, I might come back and reedit these later.**


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